


Noah

by Khintress



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Post ME3, and a doggo!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-02-06 01:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12807060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khintress/pseuds/Khintress
Summary: They waged and warred and won. Now it's time to build a life.Follow up to In Between - can be read alone, but I do recommend reading In Between first!





	1. this small wooden boat

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to domestic bliss! Or as blissful as domesticity can be when your girlfriend is a war hero who prefers to kill thresher maws on foot.
> 
> All titles come from Noah by Amber Run.

_i. my name is noah and the sea is my home, oh and **this small wooden boat** will be my throne_

 

“Look at him, he’s adorable.”

_She’s_ adorable, he thinks, sitting on the floor with a small wriggling creature in her arms. The dog is cute, he’ll admit, but the look of unfiltered joy on her face takes up most of his attention.

“He’s too big for the apartment.” Kaidan chuckles, watching the excited thing try to escape her hold.  

“He’s a puppy!” She scoffs.

“He’ll get bigger.”

“Not that much bigger.”

“They literally just told us he could weigh as much as you.”

She waves him off, shaking her head as if to dismiss that crucial bit of information. She returns her attention to the puppy, and Kaidan knows he’s not dissuading her, but they don’t have room for a high-energy dog, not right now. They’ve been looking for a property, somewhere private and quiet – somewhere they can live without the galaxy watching. So far, their search has been less than fruitful.

“The apartment.” He states again, hoping they can maybe push back the puppy purchase.

“Well we won’t _be_ in the apartment forever.” She retaliates, and really, he should have known better. He sighs, glancing down to the little mastiff mix only to find the brightest pair of blue eyes staring back at him. Now they’re teaming up on him. It’s not fair, really – he’s had years to learn how to say ‘no’ to Shepard. He doesn’t have the same luxury with this tiny ball of black fur.

“Shepard – ”

“We made a deal.”

And that really is the end of the discussion.

She names him Brutus, because it’s ‘cute’. It takes Kaidan a total of thirty seven minutes to fall absolutely in love with him.

* * *

The plot is little more than a makeshift driveway and a dock, but it’s the best fit they’ve found so far. He’s standing on the beach, his toes in the water, looking out at the ocean as he tries to envision a finished home. Big windows, light colours – he wants all the natural light he can get. They’ve spent so much time on starships – hell, Shepard grew up with artificial day cycles. He wants her to experience the sun, _their sun_ , shining through their window in the morning. He wants to sit on the dock with her, to teach her to sail, to give her the life she deserves after everything she’s given up.

He laughs now, at the notion of giving her anything less than everything.

“What do you think?” He asks, turning to her as she leans down to pull something from the sand. Brutus noses his way in, trying to get at whatever she’s reaching for.

“It’s perfect,” She says with a smile, pushing the puppy away playfully as she pockets her treasure. “Quiet, but close enough to the city. Plenty of space. Perfect.”

He swears he smiles so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Then it’s ours.” He sends a quick message to their agent; it should be a straightforward deal. Shepard comes to stand next to him, kicking her shoes off and wiggling her toes into the sand as the waves lap over them. Brutus barks hesitantly, but his desire to be close to her outweighs his fear. He treads carefully into the water, uneasy until the first gentle wave washes over his feet. Then he starts growling, and Shepard laughs, genuinely and wholeheartedly, as the tiny thing tries to bite the water.

“He’s fighting the ocean.” She whispers with a mix of awe and pride.

“We’ll get him started on thresher maws next week.” Kaidan snorts, earning a smack on the arm. They’re quiet for a moment, enjoying the breeze and cool water. She looks almost like she’s in a daze, mesmerized by the waves.

“I’ve never been barefoot on a beach before.” She says suddenly, and Kaidan can’t help the pang of sadness that stutters in his chest. “The sand is weird.”

“Ever been on a boat?”

“In training.” She confirms, but she knows that’s not what he meant.

“My dad taught me to sail. Maybe we’ll get a little one; go fishing.”

“I don’t think I have the patience for fishing.” She confesses.    

“You definitely don’t.” Kaidan nods with a smile, and Shepard rolls her eyes. Brutus runs by, kicking water at them as he goes.  

“House first,” Shepard says, smiling at the puppy as a particularly large wave takes him by surprise. “Then you can drag me to the middle of the ocean just to hold a stick with a worm on it.”

“Alright,” Kaidan smirks, watching as Brutus recovers enough to lunge back into the water in a flurry of legs. “House first.” He looks over to the patch of land where their house will be, and the thought flutters excitedly in his chest. _Their_ house. “There’s only one thing I _really_ want.”

“A beer fridge.” Shepard guesses quickly, but he waves her off with a laugh.

“Smartass.” He accuses. She simply shrugs with an affirming nod. “No, I want to be able to watch the sun rise _and_ set from our bed.” Windows, big ones – he knows what he’s asking. He thinks of her cabin on the Normandy, of the shutters permanently closed. She’d said it was _different_ down here, but he’s still uncertain. He hopes it’s not too much. He wants her to see the world she saved.

“You plan on spending an entire day in bed, Major?” She teases as Brutus barks again, abandoning his valiant pursuit to stand between Shepard’s legs as though she might protect him from the ocean.

“More than one.” Kaidan confirms, and she smiles _that_ smile. The smile that twists him into knots, that ties his tongue and scrambles his brain – the smile that’s brighter than the damn sun he’s so desperate to see. She smiles at him like he’s the only thing worth smiling at.

“Big windows, huh?” She says, pulling something from her pocket. A small pink shell sits in her palm as she peers out at the sea, a familiar tune on the tip of her tongue. “I think I like the sound of that.”  


	2. all of the people i've learned to love

_ii. i'm proud of what i've built and the things that i've done, oh and **all of the people i've learned to love**_

 

“It’s coming along.” James whistles, crossing his arms as he stares at the bones of their home. No walls yet, but the foundation is there.

“It’d be coming along faster if they would let me help.” Shepard quips from the picnic table, datapad in hand as she looks through the blueprints.

“Still benched, huh?” Her friend joins her at the table, Brutus biting at his heels as he does so. He picks the puppy up, plopping him on the table as Shepard eyes him warily.

“I’m allowed to observe and carry the occasional tool box.” She groans, cocking an eyebrow as Brutus begins pacing back and forth, unsure of how to escape his new prison.

“Have you talked to Hackett?”

“No – I…” She sighs, putting the datapad on the table and scrubbing a hand over her face. “I’m anxious, restless, but I don’t think…well, I don’t think I’m ready for _that_. Not yet.”

“Well,” James shrugs, running a hand down Brutus’ back as he passes again. “You’ve got enough going on here, anyway.” Shepard nods, but he knows she’s still conflicted. She doesn’t want to return to active duty, she’s told him as much. But she’s a soldier, just like him, and she doesn’t know what to do if she’s not fighting. He wants her to have this, the house, the domestic life – he just doesn’t want her to cage herself thinking it’s what she _should_ do.

“So,” He starts again, hoping to smooth the apprehension from her brow. “Am I getting my own room or what?” He’s been teasing her about it for weeks – a place this big? She’s got more than enough room for a few friends.

She chuckles – which he’ll take as a win, thank you – and slides the datapad over to him. He arches an eyebrow, quickly scanning the blueprint before the other brow joins the first at his hairline.

“Are you for real, Lola?” He gapes, tapping the little room in the corner, neatly labeled ‘ _James_ ’. “I was just bugging you!”

“Well, I talked to Kaidan about it.” She shrugs, finally rescuing Brutus when he starts crying. “And you don’t actually have anywhere to stay while you’re here, so. There.”

“Shepard – I –”

“You’ll have enough room for your stuff, and a real bed. You can’t keep sleeping at the relief outpost.”

“You’re actually the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met.” He shakes his head, unable to help the grin pulling at his lips. She simply shrugs, taking the plans back with a smile of her own. She’s lucky enough to have these people, this collection of misfits. These people who have followed her to hell and dragged her back from it. She’s lucky enough to have this family, and damn her if she isn’t going to keep them as close as she can.

* * *

“What a beautiful view.” Liara sighs, standing in what will eventually be the kitchen. The windows are, as promised, very big. But there’s more than empty space on the other side, more than a vacuum. There’s life – billions that she saved, and one she’s building. There’s a world outside her windows now, and she doesn’t want to cover these ones up.

“Kaidan wants to teach me how to fish.”

“You don’t have the patience for fishing.” Liara laughs, and Shepard shrugs.

“That is the general consensus, yeah.”

“So,” Liara looks at her, curiosity lingering in her growing grin. “Are you going to tell me about the extra room upstairs?”

“My gym?” Shepard cocks an eyebrow, but Liara’s eyes shine far too mischievously.

“I thought you had a gym down here.” She says casually, and Shepard has an idea where this is going.

“I can have two gyms.” She states defensively, looking back to the sea. The sea doesn’t harass her with constant questions about offspring. She likes the sea for that.

“Oh, of course.” The asari nods, but the hole’s been dug. “Just thought you might be planning ahead, that’s all.”

“I am. I’m planning to have two gyms.”

“If you say so, my friend.”

“Where’s Brutus? I thought he was supposed to protect me from attacks like this.”

“He’s still just a baby, Shepard.” Liara chides, patting her shoulder in sympathy. “The first of many, I’m sure.”

* * *

The dock, if a little worn, is his favourite spot. After a day of coordinating relief and helping in reconstruction, the only thing he wants is to sit at the end of the dock, his feet in the water as the sun begins to set. Then Shepard shifts beside him, readjusting Brutus as he sleeps in her lap, and – well.

He’s wrong. Sitting on the dock isn’t the only thing he wants.

“So you’re mom wants me to remind you that they’ll be here on Tuesday.” She’s saying, but her words aren’t quite reaching his brain. “I’ll get the apartment ready, then I was thinking we could make dinner together. I know your dad likes to cook.”

He’s vaguely aware that she’s looking at him now, so he nods in affirmation and tries to form a coherent sentence.

“Yeah,” He starts. “Yeah, they’d like that.”

“Good.” She smiles, looking out at the sunset again. “Soon, we won’t have to shove them in that tiny spare room.”

“A few more weeks.” He agrees, but his heartrate is picking up. The more he thinks of it, the more anxious he gets. He wanted to do it weeks, _months_ ago. He wanted to do it the moment she woke up in the hospital. He wanted to do it before the final assault. He wanted to do it before the SR-1 went down.

He hadn’t wanted to scare her. It had been so fast, and they hadn’t really discussed it, so he put it off. And then he’d been so afraid of losing her again, so paralyzed by the uncertainty of everything. And then – oh _god, and then_ – she’d woken up and the entire galaxy just lit up around him. He should have done it then, he knows, but he hadn’t wanted to overwhelm her. One excuse after another; one more reason to yield to his fear.

She’s here now. They’re here, and they’re alive – they’re building a house, for god’s sake. She’s not going anywhere, not this time.

It’s time he stopped waiting and wanting.

“So, what’s the plan when it’s finished?” She nudges his arms with hers, grinning as he’s shaken from his musings. “I’m thinking we get the kitchen done first, then I want to –”

“Marry me.”

She stops, frozen in place. He watches her exhale in slow motion, like the world has slowed down just to extend his apprehension. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears, and he’s acutely aware of his need to blink, but all he can do is look at her. She turns to him, in shock and wonder, and finally speaks.

“ _What?_ ” It’s not exactly what he’s expecting, but it’s not ‘no’.

“Marry me.” He repeats, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “There’s a ring in my drawer. I’ve been carrying it around since Sovereign, and I…the timing, I just…” He sighs, shaking his head as she stares at him in disbelief. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m done letting the galaxy decide our fates for us. We have our lives, Shepard, and I want to share mine with you.”

“Kaidan,” She blinks at him, and his chest aches to the point of breathlessness. “What exactly did you think I meant when I said, ‘I want to build a home with you’?”

It’s his turn to stare.

“So…you…wait…are you…?”

“Of course I’ll marry you, you stubborn idiot.”

And just like that, he changes his mind. Right here, with her – _wherever she is,_ being next to her – that’s his favourite spot.


	3. my hands are tied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as it turns out, I'm not dead! I'm so sorry for the extended absence - I really don't have an excuse. But here's some more fluff! Because I'm sorry for leaving you for so long. Enjoy, lovelies!

  _iii. my name is judas and **my hands are tied** , oh and even my presence is a warning sign_

 

They’re a strange weight, the rings on her finger. She’s never been one for jewelry – the closest she’s ever gotten are her dog tags, and she’s been reminded _mercilessly_ that they do not count – so the metal bands are a constant source of distraction. She fiddles with them, twirling them around her finger in quiet moments when her hands aren’t busy. They’re a welcome weight, though. A warm, comfortable reminder that somewhere, her husband bears the same weight.

Husband. She thought it would be weird, referring to Kaidan as anything other than – well, no, to be fair, she’s never really been sure what to call him. The point is, she likes calling him her husband. A lot. What’s stranger is Shepard being a _wife_. The word sits oddly on her tongue, like she isn’t sure what it means. She’s never really seen herself as something other than a soldier. A woman, yes, but a wife?

She mulls the word over as she runs along the beach. It sounds wrong – like she’s said it too much and now it’s lost all of its meaning. It’s just another title, she knows. One that will likely be swept under the rug along with her first name. Everyone calls her Shepard, or Commander. Sometimes if they feel like shaking things up, someone will call her ‘Commander Shepard’. That’s about as exciting as it gets outside of James’ ‘Lola’.

Brutus barks beside her, his tongue flapping happily in the sea air as he runs. The sun is finally free of the horizon, casting a soft warmth over the sand as their home comes back into view. She slows, catching a shard of white glowing in the morning light, and calls for Brutus to wait. She digs around the shell, pulling it from the sand carefully as Brutus tries to nose his way in. He’s almost full grown now, and it’s a good thing they finished the essentials on the house when they did. He would never have fit in their apartment. Not that she’d ever admit that to Kaidan.  

The thought brings a smile to her lips, and she twirls her wedding band in admiration before pocketing the shell and heading home.

* * *

Mornings are quiet. Sometimes he’ll feel Shepard extract herself from their bed, but more often than not, he sleeps until the sun begins filtering through their windows. Then he’s up, pulling on pants and hunting down slippers – any slippers – that haven’t been thoroughly claimed by Brutus. He’ll head downstairs, turn on the news, and make coffee in time to have a cup ready for Shepard when she gets home.

He’s sitting at the island, mug in hand as restoration reports filter in from the living room. They’re discussing relief efforts in Seoul when the door opens, Brutus slipping in excitedly as Shepard follows close behind.

“How was your run?” He asks, muting the TV as she kicks off her shoes. Her face is flushed, and he follows the lovely pink hue as it extends down her neck. It dips beneath her shirt – he knows exactly how far that blush goes – and he has to refocus his attention as she answers him.

“Would you introduce me to people as your wife?”

He snorts, glad he’d waited to take another sip of his coffee.

“That fun, huh?”

She rolls her eyes, striding over to the island and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it, all too pleased with himself, and hands her a mug of her own.

“Thank you,” She smiles, sitting on the stool beside him as she takes a drink. Then she’s kicking at his leg, eyeing him over her cup. “Would you, though?”

“When will I ever have to introduce _you_ to anyone?” He chuckles. “I’m fairly certain everyone in the galaxy knows who you are.”

“That’s…no, that’s…” She purses her lips and narrows her eyes at him. “Not the point.”

“I’ll introduce you however you’d like me to.” He says, cocking an eyebrow as she taps her fingers against her mug. “What brought this on?”

“You’re my husband.”

“As far as I’m aware, yes.” She kicks him again, trying to hide her smile by taking another drink.

“And I’m your wife.” She says once she’s swallowed.

“Should I be writing cue cards?”

She groans in exasperation and tries to explain.

“Saying that you’re my husband fits. It sounds right. Like it’s always been true.” His chest flutters, but he remains attentive. “Saying I’m your wife sounds…I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d ever get to be a wife. It sounds…fake.”

“Well, these rings _are_ plastic, so.” He shrugs, twisting the metal band around his finger with a grin.

“ _Kaidan_.”

“Look, Shepard,” He lays his free hand on the counter, and she’s quick to grab it in her own. “You’re so much more than my wife. If you don’t want to use the word, we won’t. That simple.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Say it again.” He cocks his brow again, and she elaborates. “I’m your wife.”

“You’re my wife.” He repeats carefully, but she simply hums again, contemplative. “ _What?_ ” He insists.

“I like when _you_ say it.”

He must look like an idiot, he knows, grinning like a child as he pulls her from her stool to meet him in a kiss. He hears her mug as it clinks against the counter, then feels her hand as it slides into his hair. Her nails scrape lightly against his scalp, and he hums happily at the sensation.

“You’re wearing my slipper.” She whispers against his lips, and he laughs as she pulls away. He feels the loss, but the rosy blush is making a reappearance so he takes it with grace.

“Couldn’t find my other one.” He shrugs, wiggling his toes in the mismatched slippers. She glances to Brutus, lying at their feet as she rounds the counter to stand by the windowsill. She pops open a mason jar and fishes the shell from her pocket, admiring it for a moment before placing it inside with the others. She closes the lid again with a thoughtful hum, looking out to the ocean. Then she’s turning back to her husband – _her husband_ – and pushing her faraway thoughts for later.  

“We’re going to shower.” She says, and the last thing he’s going to do is argue. “And then I’ll start on breakfast.”

“Yes ma’am.” He grins, and kicks off his slippers.


	4. your past will always follow you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad Spacers didn't get more opportunities to interact with their mother. I understand it, but - my god, the potential. I want to know about the woman who rejected a promotion to admiral to honour her child's memory. More Hannah Shepard, please!

_iv. that wherever you go and whatever you do, **your past will always follow you**_

 

****She gets a call two weeks after they finish the house. She’s been absent, more or less, since she left the hospital – she’s surprised it’s taken Hackett this long to reach out to her.

“Coordination?” She repeats, cocking a brow at the monitor.

“For the relief efforts, yes.” Hackett nods. “Rehousing, rebuilding, whatever you want. We have openings wherever you’d like to be, Shepard. Should you decide you want something do to with your time.”

“James spoke to you, didn’t he?” She accuses, knowing he’s been itching to get her back into…something. “Or was it Kaidan?”

“I’d have called sooner, if it was up to me.”

She sighs, shaking her head. She’s been out of the public eye for almost a year now; she did press hearings and made a few appearances in the early weeks, but since then? Every now and then she’ll hear speculation on the news about her inactivity, but their quiet, tucked away home has provided plenty of privacy.

“I’ll stop by an outpost later this week.” She finally answers. “See what I can do.”

“I appreciate it, Shepard.” And then he’s gone, and she leans back in her chair with a huff. She’s been idle long enough, she supposes. A well-deserved break, certainly, but she’s been restless. She wonders if that will ever stop.

Kaidan, at least, has busied himself with work. Teaching young boitics – not for the military, though that hasn’t dissuaded Hackett. He focuses on control, on the balance of power and managing drawbacks. It’s not BAaT, or even Grissom Academy; he has a facility on base in Vancouver. One that everyone gets to leave at the end of the day.

She hasn’t been back there since the Reapers attacked. Since she sat in the same room for six months. She wants to go, to see him work, to watch him do something that makes him _happy_ – but, well. Soon, she tells herself. Maybe.

Then, as if she summoned him, Kaidan knocks quietly on the open door to their office.

“All done?” He asks, rolling up his sleeves as she pulls herself out of her chair with a nod. “And?”

“I’m not _entirely_ sure what he’s offering, but I’m going to meet with someone this week and find out.”

“Alright,” He smiles. “Want me to come with you?”

“I’m not sure yet.” She answers honestly, though the beginnings of a coy smile are tugging at her lips. “Commander Shepard emerges from a year of hiding with nothing but a dog and a wedding ring.”

“And some clothes, I hope.” Kaidan snorts.

“I haven’t decided.” She shrugs in response.

“Alright _Commander Shepard_ ,” Her husband shakes his head, a fond smile still alight in his eyes. “How about we focus on feeding your mother, and _then_ worry about what to wear to a relief outpost.”

“Dinner’s not until seven, we have plenty of time.”

“It’s four-thirty.”

“Okay, yep, to the kitchen. _Now_.” She ushers him out the door, towards the stairs. “Just remember that she’s lethal.”

“You’ll recall that I _have_ met her before. Several times, in fact.” Kaidan chuckles, pausing as Brutus flies past them down the stairs.

“I’m just saying, she’ll sneak up on you.” Shepard warns, oblivious the small horse now waiting for them at the bottom. “The baby questions will come from nowhere and there will be no room for escape.”

Kaidan thinks, patting Brutus’ head as the dog’s entire back end wriggles with excitement. They’ve had the baby conversation – or, the conversation about the _possibility_ of babies. But it’s a conversation that has two participants, and he knows Shepard isn’t looking for anyone else’s input.

“We’re on the call list for a krogan infant named Tank.” He lands on, presenting the option to her with a shrug.

“Ooh, that’s good.” She nods, eyes narrowed in thought. “That’s very good.”

* * *

Hannah Shepard, unsurprisingly, is not fooled by their carefully crafted alibi. But she doesn’t push, either, so dinner continues with minimal discourse. She reprimands them for their sparse contact, but even they can admit they deserved that particular lecture.

“I’ve been considering taking a sabbatical.” She says as Kaidan collects their dishes. “It’s been too long since we had more than a few hours together.”

“Well, you have a room here. Whenever you want it.” Kaidan assures, looking to Shepard as she nods.

“We’d love to have you.” She confirms.

“It’s just that,” Hannah purses her lips, unsure of how to explain. “Well, my daughter has essentially retired, and I’m still working. You almost died,” She grasps Shepard’s hand, the crease between her brows deepening as she stares at her daughter. “I should be taking advantage of every moment I have with you. Every moment.”

“I’m here.” Shepard squeezes her hand. “We’re here. We have all the time in the world.”

“I’m not foolish enough to believe that anymore.”

“Then take some time.” Shepard smiles, vaguely aware of Kaidan slipping into the kitchen with the dishes. “Come stay with us. I’m a pretty decent cook, now.”

Hannah chuckles, but nods, and some of the tension eases from the air.

“I’ll talk to Hackett.” She says, but Shepard knows from experience that there should be a ‘maybe’ in there somewhere. Neither of them have ever been very good at sitting still.

“Grab your wine.” She says, releasing Hannah’s hand as she stands. “Come sit in the kitchen while I help Kaidan with the dishes.”

“Ah, good.” Hannah follows suit, bringing her glass with her. “I’d like to discuss a sibling for Tank.”

“ _Mother_.”

“He’s going to need someone to play with, darling.”

“ _I_ didn’t have any siblings.” Shepard argues, trying to quell the conversation before Hannah ropes Kaidan into it.

“Oh god, could you imagine two of you?” Hannah laughs, hand over her heart. “We couldn’t handle that.”

“Couldn’t handle what?” Kaidan asks, turning from the sink as Hannah slips onto a barstool.

“If I had a sibling.” Shepard answers with a mild glare, when her mother is too busy laughing to herself to respond. Kaidan stops, pondering the thought with mock solemnity.

“There wouldn’t be a single thresher maw left in the galaxy.” He says seriously, and Hannah’s laugh only grows louder. Brutus trots over from his bed in the living room, curious about the noise, and Shepard sighs into her wine glass. The dog stops when he reaches her side, leaning into her legs as she finishes her drink.

“It’s not like I go _looking_ for them! _They_ find _me_.”


	5. light a fire

_v. so why don't we **light a fire** ,and oh, let the flames grow higher_

 

Coordinating relocation programs in Vancouver isn’t as mind numbing as she’d expected. She wouldn’t say it’s fun, but she’s helping. It’s a relief to be interacting with people without a gun between them. That’s not to say she isn’t carrying one, but – well, she knows what they say about old habits.

It becomes routine; the sort she’s never had before. A job that starts with her arrival and ends with her departure. A job that she leaves at the end of the day. She almost doesn’t know how to turn it off – she usually doesn’t leave the site until she’s exhausted. And even then, Kaidan has to drag her to the car to get her home. They don’t talk about it, her borderline unhealthy work ethic. They both know that waging war didn’t leave much time for anything else.

She’s learning to be better. To keep a little of herself _for_ herself. But she’s given everything once already, and been prepared to do it again, and…ah, old habits.

Maybe that’s why she leaves early today. She can feel the stress, the sense of urgency closing in on her. She’s not on the Normandy, she reminds herself. She’s not fighting anymore. She doesn’t need to sicken herself with work, not again. So when her chest aches and her gut twists itself into knots, she excuses herself for the day. She’s not irreplaceable, not here. The work will get done.

She’s halfway home when her comm pings, and she nearly heaves with the surprise of it. The apprehension in her stomach doesn’t settle, swirling around uneasily even after James’ voice comes through.

“James,” She smiles, ignoring the discomfort. “Almost home?”

“Hey Lola,” She can practically hear his grin on the other end. “Another few hours. I should be there in time for that amazing, home-cooked meal I know you’ve been dying to make me.”

“Uh huh.” She snorts.

“How’s work? Not consuming your entire life, I hope.” He’s been talking to Kaidan, she knows it.

“I’m actually heading home now, thank you very much.”

“Oh? And it’s only – well, I don’t know what time it is there, but I’m pretty sure it’s early.”

“Almost one.” She confirms. “Gives me plenty of time to move all the junk out of your room.”

“ _Lola!_ ”

“Stop leaving and I’ll stop trying to replace you with knickknacks.”

“Hey, not all of us can quasi-retire. Are they at least classy knickknacks?”

“Oh, very.”

* * *

She doesn’t realize how early it is when her knees hit the floor, the contents of her stomach escaping with a ferocity that makes her bones ache. She’s trembling on the bathroom floor, clutching the toilet like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. Kaidan is by her side in seconds, still groggy but collecting her hair as she heaves nonetheless.

“It’s okay.” He says quietly, rubbing her back with his free hand. “You’re okay.”

“Oh my god,” She groans, choking on a convulsion. “I don’t have enough toothpaste for this.”

Then her face is in the toilet again, and she’s mostly focused on not crying with the force of it.

“Dinner?” James’ voice comes from the doorway, and she hates that’s she’s woken him.

“I feel fine.” Kaidan says, and she knows that James can eat anything – poisonous or not.

“I didn’t –” She stops to heave. “– feel well yesterday –” Once more. “– either.”

They’re all quiet for a moment, and she can hear James shuffling his feet before he coughs.

“So, am I just gonna say what we’re all thinking, or…?”

She pointedly ignores him in favour of ejecting the last of her dinner. And nearly ten minutes later, when she has a moment to breathe, Kaidan helps her sit on the floor. She rubs her knees, grimacing as James drops down to join them. It’s an odd sight, the three of them sitting in the bathroom, but she doesn’t have the energy to get up.

“I can’t be.” She says once she’s taken a few deep breaths. “At least, I thought – you know, with the whole _dying_ thing.” She waves a hand around vaguely, and Kaidan presses a kiss to her hair as she leans her head against his shoulder. “I don’t exactly know how much is synthetic, but I assumed…”

“We can check.” Kaidan offers, and she can hear the restraint in his voice. “My omni-tool’s in the office.”

She nods, however slightly, and James is on his feet in a second.

“I’ll get it.” And he’s gone. But Kaidan is still tense, still taught, like he’s holding his breath.

They’ve discussed it before – their chances of conceiving. After the horrors her body has been through, neither of them expected much. They’ve talked about adoption, but it was always a faraway thing. Something for later, for after. _But,_ she thinks, _after what?_ They’re settled, they’re healthy. Neither of them have ever expressed a desire to _not_ have children. It just always seemed…distant. A what if. A maybe.

She should have known better, really. Her entire existence has been an _if_ – if they beat Saren, if they stop the geth, if they make it through the relay, if they destroy the Reapers. She’s made a habit of turning _if_ into _when_.

“I want it.” She says quietly, reaching for his hand where it rests on her thigh. They only have a few moments before James returns, and she wants him to know. Just the two of them, however unromantic the bathroom is – she wants him to know that she wants this, planned or not.

“You do?” He shifts, entwining their fingers. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” She assures, tilting her head to meet his gaze so he knows just how serious she is. “I want every piece of you I can get.”

And she swears the joy in his eyes steals the air from her lungs.

Then James is stumbling back into the room, omni-tool in hand as he fiddles with the scanner. The orange light blinks to life, and he stares at the screen with an intensity that almost makes her want to laugh. But then his eyes widen, and his jaw drops, and laughing is suddenly the last thing on her mind.

“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit?”

“ _Holy shit_.”

“You’re…”

“We’re…?”

“Holy shit.”

“I take it back.” James says. “What I said on the phone. I’m quasi-retiring. As of this moment I am quasi-retired.”

Kaidan looks like _he’s_ about to be sick, and Shepard pulls back to frame his face with her hands. He’s a little unsteady, even on the floor. But he looks at her with such reverence, she can’t seem to focus on anything else.

“You’re a miracle on legs.” He breathes, and she has to laugh. They’ve always been good at beating the odds.

Old habits, and all that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, who didn't see that coming? Really? If I can be trusted to be one thing, it's predictable. I can also be trusted to be late, but...shhhhh. Sorry about that. Again.


	6. life's for living right

_vi. so why don't we light a fire and leave the rest behind, 'cause **life's for living right**_

 

“Hey, _hey_!” She stops at the door, glancing over her shoulder as James waves at her from the kitchen. Brutus barks beside her, pawing at the door that really should be open by now. “Breakfast first, Lola. Running after.”

“James,” She starts, but he isn’t having any of it.

“Breakfast first.” He insists, and she relinquishes her hold on the door handle with a few choice words. Brutus is less than impressed, but follows behind her in confusion nonetheless.

“I can still run.” She protests, sliding onto the barstool. James cocks an eyebrow at her as he slides the eggs onto the plate in front of her, and really, she should know better than to argue.

“Never said you couldn’t.” He shrugs, dropping onto the stool beside her with a plate of his own. “Did I say she couldn’t run, Brutus?” The dog weaves between them indignantly, clearly unimpressed that his morning routine has been thrown off. James leans down, wrapping his arms around his chest and heaving Brutus onto his lap. It takes him a minute to adjust himself, but the hound settles in and the grumbling ceases.

“Kaidan doesn’t like it when we do that.” Shepard points out around a forkful of egg.

“Kaidan’s still asleep.” James brushes her off, flapping Brutus’ ears around as the dog pants happily.

“Kaidan is very much awake.” The man in question rounds the corner into the kitchen, and James offers a cheeky grin. “You’re the reason he thinks he’s a lap dog.”

“He is!” James laughs. “He’s a dog, he’s on my lap.”

“Tell that to my knees.”

“James won’t let me run.” Shepard pipes up, munching on a piece of toast.

“Tattletale.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and Kaidan wonders when _this_ became a normal occurrence in his life.

“How are you feeling?” He asks instead, striding across the kitchen to place a kiss on her cheek. She leans into it, humming appreciatively, and offers him a grape.

“Good. Not nauseous anymore.” She spares a glance at James, and adds. “Restless, though.”

Kaidan only smiles, taking the grape from her fingers and repeating, “Breakfast first.”

She gapes, huffing as she jams her fork back into her eggs with a little more force than necessary.

“Can’t believe,” She mumbles, shaking her head. “Betrayed by my own husband.”

The only response is a happy bark as Brutus steals a slice of toast from her plate.

* * *

“I’m not going to say I told you so.” Liara hums, standing in the doorway of the now empty room that never did become a second gym. “But, well.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Shepard waves her off, shaking her head as Liara smiles. “Smartass.”

“You could always throw a punching bag in the corner.” She teases, following Shepard as they move to the stairs. “You’d never get James out of here.”

“ _James_ wants to start decorating.” Her friend groans, and Liara nearly chokes on the laugh that bubbles in her throat.

“Oh dear.”

“He and Kaidan are a disastrous duo.”

“You know,” Liara says, taking Shepard’s arm as they descend the stairs. “It’s only going to get worse.” She’s met with a cocked brow in response, and elaborates. “Garrus called me in a panic after you told him. He and Zaeed are apparently already talking about the inadequacies of your security system.”

“ _No_.” Shepard whispers overdramatically.

“From what I understand, he’s trying to get some time off.”

“But Palavan –”

“I tried.” Liara assures, chuckling as Shepard settles herself onto the couch. “He wasn’t having any of it.”

“My mother is already planning a sabbatical, James has entered self-imposed semi-retirement, and now Garrus?”

“I may have found a place in the city.”

“ _Liara, no_.”

“Liara, yes.”

“No,” She says again, resting her head against the back of the couch as Liara sits beside her. “This is all too much; I can’t let everyone uproot their lives for this.”

“It’s a temporary relocation.” She assures, patting Shepard’s leg in false sympathy. “After everything you’ve done, Shepard, how could we not?”

“But what about your research?” She tries. “Your work?”

“It’s almost like asari live for a thousand years.”

“ _Smartass_.” Shepard glowers half-heartedly, resting a hand on the slightest bump forming beneath her shirt.

“Let us take care of you for once.” Liara chuckles, taking Shepard’s other hand.

“It’s not in my nature.” She says, but it’s lacking the mirth Liara would expect to accompany the jest. Something about Shepard’s tone catches her off-guard, and she frowns as the woman sits up straight again. “None of this is…I mean, I…I don’t know how to do any of this, Liara. I’m not built for _this_.” She gestures vaguely with her free hand, in the generally direction of her growing belly.

“Shepard –”

“What if I screw everything up?”

“Then you screw up.” The asari states simply. “That’s life.” Shepard levels her with a stare that screams ‘unhelpful’, but Liara shrugs. “You’re allowed to mess up. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

“But I –”

“You’re not _alone_ , Shepard.”

And that effectively shuts her up, because Liara’s right. She’s lucky enough to have a galaxy of family – of people she loves, and people who love her. She’s loved, she knows. Her child will be loved. She’s still worried about her capabilities – she knows guns and battlefields and how to crush a man’s throat with her biotics. She doesn’t know babies. She doesn’t know meal plans or nursery rhymes or preschools.

But she’ll learn. She’ll adapt. That’s what she’s good at. And she doesn’t have to worry _too_ much, because she’s already sure of the most important thing.

_Her child will be loved,_ beyond all imagining, by the greatest family conceivable.

“All you have to do is love her.”

“Her?” Shepard manages a watery smile, and Liara winks in return.

“Call it intuition.” She tries.

“I’m going to call it wishful thinking.” Shepard rebukes, a laugh filtering past her lips.

“Who’s the scientist here?”

“You’re an archaeologist! Should have played the Shadow Broker angle.”

“Next time.”


End file.
